The sight of Viscount Goodwin sprawled across the sofa was hardly something fit to be seen, but neither he nor the staff assigned to that section paid it any mind.

“Mr. Ashton” was engaged in conversation with the young marquis about the Kingdom of Silomon—resources, trade routes… the sort of dull talk about money that was tedious even at a glance.

Paying closer attention, Deonar noted the contrast between the two men. While the young marquis remained warm and sociable, full of easy charm, Ashton spoke only when necessary, his words precise and measured.

If he had to guess, Ashton didn’t hold his companion in any great regard.

Not because of the man himself, but because he seemed like someone who didn’t care for anyone.

Deonar Goodwin had always been perceptive in such matters.

He noticed what others overlooked, and his instincts were rarely wrong.

That was why the realization weighed so heavily on him.

Dragging a hand roughly over his face, Deonar fell into thought.

‘To think she’s married to a man like that…’

The image of the mysterious woman trembling as she clutched a large bag in front of Bark, the racetrack owner, lingered in his mind like a trapped bird in a room with no open windows.

He felt no shame in eavesdropping on another man’s conversation, merely out of curiosity about someone else’s wife.

What unsettled him was something else entirely.

He simply couldn’t imagine what kind of conversation such a pure, timid, gentle and sensitive woman could have with a husband as cold and unyielding as marble.

“Are you alright, my lord?”

When a passing server asked casually, Deonar suddenly grabbed her sleeve and whispered,

“Do you know that man?”

“Do you mean the young Marquis of Phelin?”

“No—the man across from him.”

“Oh, Mr. Ashton? He’s a director at Roycobs Bank. Not a regular here. Heh… looking to get even richer?”

“A banker?”

“I’ve heard other guests whispering—he’s apparently well-known in investment circles. Though he does seem rather cold.”

When Deonar slipped her a tip, she grinned and disappeared.

And his expression darkened even further.

‘The wife of such a successful banker… is addicted to gambling?’

A strange, heavy sense of relief washed over him. Only then did he sit up straight and lean back in his seat.

He had been so captivated by her that he hadn’t stopped to consider where or under what circumstances they had met.

The thought that Eliza Ashton — seemingly so pure — was, like him, a slave to recklessness and indulgence, addiction being the most obvious mark, and that she was hiding something from her husband, brought him an unexpected sense of comfort.

In truth, it even pleased him.

It made the world feel as though it still made sense somehow.

If anyone were to question why he found relief in the flaws of a married woman he had only met once, he would silence them for daring to ask.

Deonar could swear there was not a trace of impure intent in his thoughts of Eliza.

He had no desire to hold her hand or kiss her.

He was simply glad that she wasn’t as perfect as she seemed — glad that she was flawed and human, and more like him than that man.

Deonar Goodwin was far too lazy to question the contradictions in his thoughts and emotions.

Taking another sip of his drink, he shifted position, resting his chin against the back of the sofa as he openly watched James.

To an outsider, it might have seemed as though Maquis Goodwin was about to act recklessly.

But, in truth, as he watched James, Deonar felt something else growing quietly within him: Fear.

‘That man… he’s the type who doesn’t even growl—he just kills.’

Shaking his head with a low groan, Deonar rose from his seat.

***

“To think I’d see you here! Isn’t it practically the end of the world?”

The moment she sat down on the tea room sofa, Lorina crossed her legs and spoke, her words sharp despite her smiling face.

The Eliza of the past might not even have realized Lorina was mocking her, and would have replied, ‘It’s my first time here too, so I’m a bit overwhelmed.’ But now, she had no intention of going that far in her act.

After glancing around the luxurious private tea room, Eliza merely shrugged as if to say, ‘It’s nothing special.’

In the meantime, the staff entered, set down tea and desserts, and quietly withdrew.

Lorina’s disbelief at her composed attitude was written plainly across her face, and Eliza spoke as if amused.

“So you spend your time with the young marquis in places like this. I’m happy for you, Lorina. Don’t worry—I understand why you lied to me.”

“What?”

Lorina’s expression immediately hardened. Eliza knew well that while nobles could be brazen about all sorts of wrongdoing, they were particularly sensitive to being called liars.

“You’re saying… I lied?”

“You came to me and said you had nothing to do with the marquis—and asked me to keep it a secret from James.”

“When did I ever say anything to James—!”

Lorina snapped her mouth shut and glared at Eliza. It was not the word ‘lie’ that provoked her most—it was ‘James.’

Seeing the hostility gathering in her gaze, Eliza felt a faint chill run down her spine.

‘So this is your real face, Lorina. It shows itself so easily.’

Smiling as if she truly didn’t mind, Eliza cut herself a piece of cake, took a bite, and widened her eyes. It was genuinely delicious.

By then, Lorina had suppressed her agitation and spoke coldly,

“Eliza, I was only trying to be cautious about my relationship with Aedrin. As you know, there’s also his connection to my father, and the situation is complicated.”

Eliza listened with half an ear as she ate her dessert, but Lorina spoke with firm conviction.

“And when I came to see you, I truly had no relationship with him. So I never lied, Eliza.”

“Feelings are like that, aren’t they? They take time to ripen before you can admit them. I really do understand, Lorina.”

“…!”

Lorina looked as though her stomach had turned, while Eliza, pretending not to notice her gaze, continued enjoying her dessert.

‘You’ve always been the one making those cutting remarks—now that you’re on the receiving end, it must be driving you mad.’

Narrowing her eyes, Lorina studied her before speaking.

“You seem a little different today, Eliza.”

Eliza deliberately widened her eyes further, putting on a shy act. A faint blush even touched her cheeks.

“Do I? Maybe it’s because James has been paying me more attention…”

Lorina’s brows dipped sharply, as if she refused to believe a word of it. Eliza smiled sweetly and, in a pose that drew attention to her bracelet, smoothed down her dress.

It was the very gesture Lorina herself used when showing off her own outfits.

“He personally chose this dress for me. At first, I thought it might be too flashy, but I’m starting to like it more and more. I suppose his taste is better than mine.”

“That bracelet—I don’t recall seeing it before.”

Lorina cut in, her tone brimming with jealousy.

“This? It was his birthday gift. I’d been keeping it tucked away because it felt too precious, but since today is special, I decided to be brave and wear it.”

‘He this, he that, he, he, he.’

For some reason, every word Eliza spoke grated on Lorina’s nerves today.

Lorina let out a scoff and turned her head away.

“Hmph. ‘Brave,’ really.”

“Hmm?”

“No, I mean—it’s touching. Your husband’s assistant must have excellent taste.”

‘You seem to be mistaken. Do you really think your husband picked that out? It must have been his assistant.’

Lorina smiled with practiced politeness as she sipped her tea, her smile cold enough to frost over.

Unbothered, Eliza continued,

“I used to be afraid of going out, but now that I’ve tried it, I realize it’s a good thing. I get to see how kind he really is… When you live together as a married couple every day, it’s easy to forget things like that. It’s all thanks to you, Lorina.”

It took a long moment before Lorina replied.

“Is that so?”

Eliza could tell Lorina was nearing her limit.

‘I’ll be facing the real Lorina soon,’ she thought, a quiet tension settling inside her.

Instead, Lorina forced a bright, artificial smile and started chatting lightly. She asked which dessert tasted better and what ingredients might have been used to color the decorations.

After a while, Eliza understood the reason.

Even to her, James’s seemingly indifferent yet considerate behavior had been unexpected — and it was clear that it had affected Lorina more than she had let on.

Now, Lorina had chosen to retreat and steady herself.

But Eliza had no intention of giving her that time.

“Since your father decided to go into business with him, he must think quite highly of the young marquis, right?”

“Of course. That’s why I met James as well.”

Earlier, the situation had made it easy to let it pass, but that way of addressing him had been bothering Eliza the entire time. It was one thing to use his name in front of her—but to do so even in front of James himself?

Feigning surprise, she asked to confirm.

“But James… told you to call him by his name?”

Thinking she had finally found Eliza’s weakness, Lorina delivered a flawless lie.

“Of course! I’m my best friend’s husband’s closest companion, after all. We became close the last time we met at the bank. Now the three of us are practically friends.”

So she had already been visiting the bank…

Eliza couldn’t help but press further.

“You met him at the bank?”

“I was running an errand for my father. Oh—didn’t I mention that?”

“No. You didn’t.”

“Is that so?”

Lorina looked at the startled Eliza and smiled coldly, almost provocatively. Her expression seemed to say, Did you really think I couldn’t even claim the right to call James by his name?

Eliza realized then that Lorina had mentioned the bank on purpose—it was a challenge, a silent So what if you know? What can you do about it?

The tea room felt no different from a battlefield.